


Objects at Rest

by inkdust



Series: Vis Insita [1]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Feelings, Peggy's POV, Post-Season/Series 02, life examination, peggysous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkdust/pseuds/inkdust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy sleeps with a gun under her pillow. It hasn't left much room for anything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Objects at Rest

**Author's Note:**

> Dabbling while I work on Renegades.
> 
> You are all too lovely.

Peggy sleeps with a gun under her pillow. In Colleen’s apartment, the Griffith, Howard’s penthouse, Howard’s L.A. estate. Strange that she'd never noticed that all of those places belonged to other people.

She notices now, because this room is different. It still doesn’t belong to her, though he acts as though it does. When she forgets her Agatha Christie book on the nightstand, it doesn’t move from the spot. When she asks if she might hang up her dress, she finds a space already cleared in the closet. And she wonders at how easily she slips into his life, into his home, how easily her name slips off his tongue when he’s only half awake. 

She wonders—worries, though she won't admit it—how he could possibly fit as effortlessly into her own. Her life, where life has simply meant work and home is a childhood memory. Is there a space for him?

Is it too constrained? Too cold? Too coarse at the edges?

No, he tells her, over and over with his hands, his lips. She begins to believe him. 

Because his life, she learns, has simply meant work. And home disappeared somewhere during the war. Maybe with his leg, he says. But in the morning his bedroom feels more like a home than any of the others.

Her gun fits by the nightstand. The first night it’s there, she practices grabbing it while he’s out of the room. Simple enough. But when the nightmares hit, her fingers reach to the other side of the bed.

_Daniel_ , she says, only half awake. 

_Here_ , he says, and his hands repeat it, firm and gentle. 

Not a place but an answer.

Daniel sleeps on the pillow beside her. Daniel, with his sharp tongue and steady touch and eyes that never, not once, lie to her.

The dawn light grows slowly, softly. She never let herself pay much attention to softness. But it’s soft here, as he begins to stir, his hand blindly seeking her waist. _Peg_ , he mumbles.

She tucks his arm around her, letting his fingers slip into the spaces between hers.

_Here_ , she says. And they lie curled together as the morning lightens.


End file.
